Pitch

CHAPTER THREE

The door swung silently open under the weight of my fist. I jumped back like a scalded cat and bumped into Travis who went flying into a flowerbed. He must have landed on one of the creepy garden gnomes because he released a totally embarrassing high pitched squeal before he got to his feet and staggered back over to me. From the dim overhead light I could see dirt smeared his left cheek and pieces of grass clung to his hair. Reaching out I plucked half a petunia from behind his ear and rolled my eyes.

“You would never make a good spy,” I told him.

“That’s because I don’t want to be a spy,” he gritted out. “I want to be an accountant!”

“Same thing.” I shrugged.

“It is not the same thing at all! It is the furthest thing… from… oh.” Travis’s voice trailed away. “Hello,” he finished weakly.

I whirled around and tried not to stare. There, standing in the open doorway, was the largest man I had ever seen.

He wasn’t large width wise. Rather, he was large all over in the way those wrestlers were on TV, the ones that hit each other with chairs and made lots of grunting noises. His hair was white blond and slicked back from his face with some kind of oil. A leather jacket, totally not PETA approved, enveloped his upper body and came all the way down to his knees. Gold rings flashed on his hands when he crossed his arms in front of his barrel sized chest and said, “Can I help you?”

Surprisingly it was Travis who recovered first. “We – uh – heard a weird – uh – noise and we’re just – uh – ”

“Why are you not in your houses?” The man interjected, narrowing blue eyes that were only a few shades darker than ice.

When Travis’s mouth gaped open and closed like a fish gasping for air, I took over. “Where is Mr. Livingston?” I asked loudly.

“I am Mr. Livingston,” said the man. He grinned, revealing gleaming white teeth that I instinctively flinched away from. I was trying to look him in the eyes, to show him I wasn’t afraid even though his ham sized fists could do some serious damage to my internal organs, but for some reason it physically wasn’t working. I could gaze into those ice blue eyes for half a second before something in my brain short wired and I had to look away. Within seconds my head was throbbing to beat the band and my stomach was doing greasy flips. The man’s smile widened.

“Would you like to come in the house?” he asked, gesturing broadly with one tree trunk sized arm. “You and your companion are not looking well.”

“What?” I gasped. “Of course we’re not going inside, who do you take us for complete -”

“We would love to come in,” said Travis.

“What?” I said again, although this time it came out as more of a strangled yelp. I tried to grab Travis’s arm but he shook free with surprising force and walked straight through the door.

“Travis Robert Callahan, you get out here THIS MINUTE!” I yelled after him.

The man in the leather jacket laughed and winked one blue eye at me and said, “He is gone now, little girl.”

I didn’t like the way he said ‘gone’. It wasn’t a ‘gone to the store and he’ll be right back’ kind of gone. It was a ‘he has moved to a different country and you’ll never see him again’ kind of gone. I took a wary step backwards. The man’s eyes narrowed. It was a faint movement, almost imperceptible. I retreated another step. His upper lip curled.

“You do not want to come in the house with your friend?” he said.

I noticed his grin was a little more forced now. He almost looked… confused. As if he couldn’t understand why I had not followed Travis into the house. “You come out here,” I challenged, spreading my arms wide. “You want me? Come and get me.”

He didn’t like that. One booted foot stepped across the doorway. I braced myself, ready to run, but with a hiss of pain he snatched his foot back. Tiny curls of smoke swirled up from the leather toe.

“What the hell…” I breathed, staring at his boot. He snapped his teeth like a feral dog and again they glinted in the moonlight. This time I saw why.

Silver. He had fangs of silver.

I recoiled with a little shriek of alarm and landed hard on my butt. “TRAVIS!” I cried desperately as I scrambled to my feet. “TRAVIS, GET OUT HERE!” My heart was pounding like a drum inside my chest. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Didn’t want to believe it.

Grinning lewdly, the man ran his tongue across his top lip in a provocative gesture that turned my stomach. “Best run along home, little girl,” he said. “You cannot save your precious Travis now.”

“Who are you?” I demanded. I almost said ‘what’ are you, but I stopped myself just in time. Take it easy, Lola. He’s just a freak with fake teeth. Get a grip.

“I have gone by many names. I have been many things. Come inside,” he coaxed, his blue eyes filled with cunning. “Come inside and I will tell you everything you want to know.”

I actually took a step forward before I stopped myself. Part of me actually wanted to go to him. That was his power, I realized with a shudder. To create action with a mere suggestion. To coerce with an idea. That was why Travis had gone so willingly into the house. In his mind, there had not been a choice.

“I’m calling the police. I’m calling the police and they’re going to come and arrest you.” I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed 9-1-1. The man slouched against the side of the doorframe and watched me, his expression bored.

“Hello?” I said when I heard the click of someone answering my call. “I need to report a – um – a kidnapping! At – uh – 233 Turner Street. There is a man here and I think he’s dangerous and he -”

The laughter cut me off. It cackled through the phone, raising every hair on the back of my neck. A woman’s laughter, high pitched and cruel. When the laughter stopped she whispered one word before the line went dead.

Run.